


At the going down of the sun

by kaberett



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Horses, Marriage Proposal, Oral History, Politics, Women Being Awesome, Women in the Military, giving women names, maybe a Bechdel pass if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:35:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaberett/pseuds/kaberett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody ever talks about Olivia Vorbarra Vorkosigan. Nobody Vor, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the going down of the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/gifts).



I don't rightly know where to start, but - I suppose it had might as well be with the Betans. The Princess-Marianna-as-was arrived with the first of their Astronomical Survey, as best I understand, though that was before my time, of course. As the case may be, them Betans spent an awful lot of time those first few months in with the Emperor and the Council, and endless balls - my aunt, she was a maid at the Residence, and right up until she died she'd to say we mustn't fuss, it wasn't near so bad as when they was all run ragged after those galactics. 

Prince Xav, he went sweet on the girl - it was very nearly a scandal, way I heard it told, but one way and another he managed to start a fashion instead. Still, it caused no end of problems - Marianna might not've been allowed to speak her mind to the Counts, but the Prince, he doted on her. So when the princess Olivia came along Marianna would hear nothing but that the girl be taught by the best - to _fight_. Now that _did_ cause a scandal, at least in the Service - was my granda furious! That a princess be treated like a common soldier - the very idea!

Marianna got her way, though, and little Olivia was taught to handle sword and horse. That's how she came to be down in the District, when the Cetagandans arrived - just like her mother, she was, and wouldn't have anything but that she was to pick out her own horse, and a war-trained stallion at that - not that she was ever supposed to do anything but ride around the Residence grounds looking pretty. My Stan, he was one of the young Lord Piotr's own Armsmen and he helped with the horses, so he was with them in the stables when the news came in. Piotr sent him back in after the young lady - in her wake, really - he was pale as a sheet, with the Vorbarra guardsmen trailing after him. They were just all too used to Vorbarr Sultana, if you want my opinion. 

Be that as it may, she strode right in, cool as you please, and told me that if I didn't cut off her hair she'd do it herself. It was like listening to my granda in one of his moods, it was - gave me chills. And oh, but it was such lovely hair - a braid as thick as your wrist, all the way down her back, and did it shine! It fair broke my heart, but you know better than to cross someone used to giving orders like that - her guardsmen barely even frowned, too busy with trying to contact the capital, I suppose. For sure they hadn't realised what she was up to, at least not at that point. So there I was, standing there holding her braid, when the Lord strides in and stops all of a sudden, looking her up and down. _What are your intentions, then, milady?_ he says, calm as you like, and me mortified on the flags. _I expect I shall be safer here than in Vorbarr Sultana_ , she says back, _even if it takes a while for Imperial Security to realise as much_ , and the ranking Vorbarra man thinks better of what he was about to say and subsides again. _In any case_ , she adds, _you'll be needing field commanders_.

The young Lord's eyes lit up like a forest fire at that, I can tell you. Truth to say, I think that was when he fell in love with her. _I'll take the five-year-old_ , she said then, _the bay_. He looks her in the eye and I've known him boy and man, long enough to know when he's taking care not to laugh. _What shall I tell your lady mother about your hair, milady?_ he asks, courteous and courtly as you like, and she snorts at him. _My good lady mother is a Betan and a commander and she won't care one whit_ , she replies, _but you can tell my grandfather I burnt the lot as offerings for our soldiers._ He didn't half look funny at that _our_ but he swept her a bow and said _of course, milady_ , and that was that. Her men tried to stop her, of course, but the Princess and Lord Vorkosigan, well, he just said _I offer up to you the fullest protection of my Armsmen and my District_ , and by the time they'd scared up proper britches for her there wasn't much as could be done.

It ended up true enough, one way and another. When we all went up into the mountains I brought that braid with me in my little chest, and every time the Princess misliked the length her hair'd grown to I'd add the trimmings, and every time one of the boys died she'd burn a lock. In the worst of it that chest near fell empty no matter how careful she was to ration it, just enough for each that she never gave insult - and to think, a princess burning offerings for backcountry folk! I was to look after her, y'see, keep her as comfortable as she'd let me, and mostly this meant repairing her sewing up her breeches and cooking for her. I don't mind saying, she damn near cried when that horse of hers broke his leg, nearly wouldn't eat any of the stew we got out of him. Honestly, I did think about sneaking a bit of his tail into that box that she might break her heart a little less over not burning enough, but I couldn't quite bring myself to, for all they were a beautifully matched pair. She got to know them caves better'n anyone, and nobody dared condescend to her after the first time, when some of the men said _yes-milady_ \- Piotr was up in the mountains that week, not down in the foothills - and then without a by-your-leave they up and decided they knew best, better than the Princess and her tutors and even the young Lord, who - let me tell you - hadn't been shy about inviting her to the councils of war, nor letting her speak. Well, of course, they didn't, but she got them out of the mess they'd made and only had t'burn two offerings. When wind of it got to Lord Vorkosigan he was furious, storming about court-martials, but the Princess she just looked at him cool as you please, and she said _my Lord Vorkosigan, I beg leave to discipline my men as I see fit_. Stopped him dead in his tracks, that did.

Ah, but you'd have enjoyed the look on the now-Emperor's face when first he arrived. He wasn't a part of the Imperial family proper, you see, or not quite, and he stayed out in the country estates, never really showed his face in Vorbarr Sultana, but he knew his cousins and oh, but he thought most of them useless, the girls especially, good for nothing more than decoration. Olivia was wicked, she was, that first meeting, in her riding gear with her hair all short, mussed and muddy. She kept her peace, that she did, waiting for Ezar to notice, until Piotr called her by name, and then - oh, my, did trouble break loose, to hear Stan tell it. Even back then, Piotr would get awful focussed - give him something to concentrate on and he'd forget all his manners, and this time he forgot that Ezar being freshly arrived wouldn't have got used to his cousin's being a commander. My Stan says that when Ezar finally shouted himself out, all of a sudden he realised that the Princess and the young Lord were just sitting there, very calmly, _looking_ at him, and without him having noticed Olivia had got out her knife and was toying with it, and as best Stan can tell suddenly Ezar realised he'd never seen his cousin handle a blade before, and it was obvious she knew what she was doing, and of a sudden he just slumped into a chair and they all very politely got him the lay of the land, pretending as nothing had happened, and none of them ever mentioned it again anywhere any of us heard, to this very day.

All the same it wasn't til she was safely back in the Residence and her granda made him a General - of course the Princess didn't get any medals, though those of us as had been there knew perfectly well Piotr wouldn't have done half so well without her - that he quite dared ask her to marry him. The Count-his-father was furious when he found out the young Lord had gone directly to Olivia himself, not even a Baba. It was kept pretty quiet, but the Armsmen were kept busy picking up after the old man, for a few weeks while he calmed hisself down, not that the Princess Marianna didn't help, very slyly, of course, so's not to offend his honour further. That woman would've made a fine Empress, that she would, ever so delicate for all her maids would let on she didn't think much of the Vor all in all, if you only asked right.

Now as you know, milady, the Princess Olivia said yes, and then there was the scramble to get everything sorted out right and proper before word got out too far. As for the wedding, that was the first time I ever saw hillfolk on a Vor wedding circle, nor could my mam or granna remember such a thing, neither, but my Lord and Lady, they insisted, and good for them, says I. Lady Olivia was a good woman, that she was - good and practical, didn't mind getting her hands dirty, and kind in her way. She kept up with the horses - up at the lake house she and Piotr would ride up into hills near every day after breakfast, rain or shine or snow.

You know how she ended up, of course. Count Piotr hasn't been the same since. You'll have noticed he doesn't ever really laugh. We thought for a long time that perhaps he'd remarry, but, well. Anywise, it'll be good to have a lady of the house again. It was such a relief when you showed up - if milord had carried on that way any longer it would fair have broken the Count's heart all over, and then where would we have been?

Is there anything else you'd like, milady?

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, o recipient!
> 
> Thanks to my excellent cheerleader/beta, ~~who shall be named in due course and the fullness of time~~ azurelunatic. Remaining errors of continuity and infelicities of language are all my own.
> 
> My point-of-view character's voice and idiom and delivery (and yes, I'm keenly aware of the irony inherent in having written a female character without a name) is in great part my grandfather's. He's a 96-year-old Irish-Cornish WWII veteran, and he'd probably be a bit horrified if he knew, to be honest; nonetheless, for this I owe him.


End file.
